One Man, Two Guvnors

One Man, Two Guvnors

One Man, Two Guvnors Rating

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2

Melbourne is no stranger to unusual, intimate show venues, but it takes a lot of creativity, planning and passion to make full use of unconventional stages. This is especially true for a play like 1 Man 2 Guvnors by Richard Bean, which opened at London’s National Theatre and was a major career stepping-stone for James Cordon. As a company, J&L Presents clearly rises to challenges like this, explaining that “each production [of theirs] is carefully tailored to its surroundings, with the venue itself becoming a character that informs and enhances the narrative”.

For this show, their chosen ‘character’ is Piano On Swan in Richmond, and an otherwise unassuming bar space is converted into a traverse stage. The small audience takes up half the walkway in front of the bar and a little nook close to the entrance, the tech operator looms above the bar and needs a ladder to get down, and the only exits are out the front door and up a small flight of stairs to the toilets. In short, there’s not a lot of space and plenty of obstacles for the actors to navigate – and they do so beautifully.

The play itself is set in Brighton in 1963, and follows the unemployed working-class Francis Henshall (played by Daragh Wills). The character quickly becomes a dogsbody to two employers: gangster Roscoe Crabb (Zoe Rose), and white-collar criminal Stanley Stubbers (Johno White). As Francis struggles to meet the demands of two masters, other subplots pile onto the whirlwind hilarity, including a twin sister posing as her dead brother; a ‘love triangle’ between Crabb, aspiring actor Alan (Dylan Mazurek) and dimwitted socialite Pauline (Emilie); and Francis falling for the feminist bookkeeper Dolly (Sharon Wills). Trust me – it’s much easier to follow when you watch it unfold over two hours, with plenty of slapstick, wordplay and melodrama in between.

 

 

The script itself was popular fifteen years ago for a reason. It was inspired by an Italian commedia dell’arte play from 1743 and takes a lot of inspiration from classic British period comedies from the likes of P. G. Wodehouse. However, the writing sprinkles in modernisms that add to the comedy instead of distracting from it. The swearing, gender swap shenanigans, fourth wall breaking and audience participation keep the gags constant, fresh and fun. The ensemble cast’s perfect sense of timing augments every joke; they aren’t afraid to let awkward silences sit because they make the moments of chaos even more uproarious.

J&L Presents’ love of performance space shows to the fullest, as every inch of the small barroom is used. Actors stand on the bar, fall behind it, rush out onto the street and back in, haul heavy trunks and trolleys every which way – everything is frenetic and chaotic in the best way possible. The blocking was also impressive because aside from a scant few times when some people’s faces weren’t visible, nothing was missed and every visual joke was clear to see. Wills is a fantastic lead getting laughs from the minute of walking onstage and had us in the palm of their hand. The other cast members fantastically embody their characters, understanding that ‘more is more’ and pushing their mannerisms and their voices to the maximum. The comedy was tight and well-planned, but also had a fluidity which made so many moments feel improvisational and any gaffes like additions to the fun. Everyone was enjoying themselves so much that they could do no wrong.

After this show, I can’t imagine 1 Man, 2 Guvnors being performed on a larger, traditional stage. The closeness cultivated between the audience and the characters feels integral to the show working as well as it does. There was a constant sense of excitement, not knowing which character was going to pop out of where, or how things could possibly get worse for our comic heroes. When I went, the audience ranged from very young kids to older people, and from the conversations I heard in the interval and afterwards, everyone seemed to have a fantastic time. This production is intimate, clever, packed with laugh-out-loud moments, and a perfect theater experience for most if not all audiences.

To book tickets to One Man, Two Guvnors, please visit https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/browse-shows/one-man-two-guvnors/.

Photographer: Darcy K Scales

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Who I’m Doing This For

Who I'm Doing This For

Who I’m Doing This For Rating

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3

(Note: This is a review of a play presented as the second half of a double billing. Melbourne Writers’ Theatre is showing Metropolis Monologues across two instalments, and this play is performed after each series of monologues. I will review the monologues separately.)

My experiences with Melbourne Writer’s Theatre’s (MWT) Metropolis Monologue series were very positive. The diversity of style and subject matter, married with some great performances and direction, showed how fresh and fun Melbourne’s independent theatre scene can be. As mentioned, five of the ten monologues are presented on each night, followed by the play that won MWT’s 2026 Amethyst Award. Unfortunately, this second show, Who I’m Doing This For, wasn’t on the same level as the monologues for me.

The play, written by Peter Farrar, follows Simon (Lochi Laffin-Vines), a man suffering under the weight of grief. He has recently lost his father (Tony Adams) – an abusive, drug-addicted ex-veteran – after caring for both him and his sickly mother. Shortly after the play begins, we see the toll his depression takes on him; he loses his job, is increasingly unable to connect to his girlfriend Claudia (Emily Farrell) and slips into a nihilism that will drive him to desperate and horrific actions.

 

 

The cast are strong performers, and their chemistry is mostly enjoyable to watch. The couple’s playful moments are endearing, the father-son relationship whiplashes thrillingly between awkwardness and mutual rage, and some of the most chilling moments come when the father is simply standing in the background, watching Simon unravel. The lighting is cleverly changed to enhance the mood of certain scenes, and the writing is at its best in the character interactions, such as the snarky quips between Simon and Claudia and the naked narcissism of the father’s abuse tactics. The play is laudably ambitious and asks provocative questions about whether the roots of trauma are personal, familial or systemic.

However, to me, the story and script did not live up to the themes it was trying to tackle. While the dynamic between Simon and his father was strong, Claudia as a character felt like a vessel for Simon to vent to or at, and she seemed much too accepting of Simon’s unreasonableness throughout. This underdevelopment also applies to the radicalization Simon undergoes; plenty of people struggle with trauma and mental illness and don’t make the decision that Simon does, and it’s unclear what external force pushed him down the specific path he takes. Outside influence is an essential component of political radicalization, and its absence makes his anti-capitalist soliloquies feel out of place. The extensive monologuing also states the play’s themes so blatantly that it robs what should be a crazy, thrilling climax of any tension. Too many moments reminded me of the old writers’ aphorism: show, don’t tell.

Who I’m Doing This For has many interesting questions within it about generational trauma, mental illness and personal responsibility. Steven T. Boltz’s direction clearly brought out the best in the actors and team involved, and I think that the play could be very strong in a future revival. But as is, it didn’t have nearly as much polish as the monologues that preceded it, and I would definitely recommend those over this play in its current form.

To book tickets to Who I’m Doing This For, please visit https://melbournewriterstheatre.org.au/.

Photographer: Mina Shafer

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The Game Is Afoot… And Slightly Off The Rails

Innes Lloyd - The Lost Casebook of Sherlock Holmes

Innes Lloyd – The Lost Casebook of Sherlock Holmes Rating

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I had the pleasure of attending The Lost Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Innes Lloyd last night as part of the Melbourne Comedy festival and it was one of those intimate, slightly chaotic and genuinely enjoyable theatre experiences that remind you what live performance can feel like when it’s happening right in front of you and, occasionally, almost on top of you.

The venue, the Impro Melbourne Theatre, was comfortable but tiny and we were seated so close to the stage I could have comfortably rested my feet on it. My companion described it perfectly, it didn’t feel like watching a play so much as watching people. There’s something disarming (and slightly voyeuristic) about that level of up close and personal proximity. You can see every flicker of expression, every moment of hesitation or delight. At times it made it harder to fully drop into the world of the story, but it also created a kind of immediacy and shared experience that larger productions can’t replicate.

The premise is a clever one: three legendary “lost” Sherlock Holmes case files, mysteries Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself hinted at across his impressive written works but cases that while connected to existing Sherlock Holmes tales, are entirely improvised – which gives clever improv actors an awful lot of room to play in! From this simple starting point, the four-person cast built a series of unfolding stories, moving fluidly between characters and locations. We met the foul-mouthed Victorian street urchins (the Irregulars), various members of the landed gentry, Dr Watson, Sherlock Holmes himself plus his corpulent brother, Mycroft and bumbling, dim-witted Inspector Lestrade with a particularly memorable foot fetish. There was also a funny thread involving Cluedo that wove its way through the third story, adding another layer of playful absurdity.

 

 

What stood out most was the ensemble’s commitment to the form. Improv, at its best, is a kind of high-wire act – a balance between structure and spontaneity, where performers are constantly listening, adapting and building something together in real time. There were a few inevitable fluff-ups (it was opening night), but rather than detracting from the show, these moments often became highlights. The cast leaned into them, supported each other and turned small stumbles into shared jokes, which delighted and deepened the connection with the audience.

That willingness to embrace imperfection is part of what makes improv so engaging to watch. You’re not just seeing a finished product – you’re witnessing the process unfold. There’s a generosity in it – a sense that everyone, performers and audience alike, is in on the same experiment.

The audience appreciated the small facts and trivia woven in about Sherlock Holmes and his creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and are apparently something of an integral part of all Innes Lloyd shows. These touches added a layer of texture and gave the show a gentle nod to its literary roots, even as it gleefully departed from them.

The overall feeling of the performance was one of enthusiasm, wit and genuine enjoyment. The cast clearly put their heart and soul into it and that energy carried the show. Improv is rarely about polished perfection, but rather about play, presence and the joy of watching something take shape in the moment.

All in all, it’s a lively, inventive and warm-hearted night out – especially for anyone who appreciates the unique magic of improv and the thrill of seeing something created right before your eyes.

To book tickets to Innes Lloyd – The Lost Casebook of Sherlock Holmes, please visit https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/browse-shows/holmes-unbound-the-lost-casebook-of-sherlock-holmes.

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Metropolis Monologues Showcase Two

Metropolis Monologues Showcase Two

Metropolis Monologues Showcase Two Rating

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2

(Note: Metropolis Monologues is presented in two groups, and each night the monologues are followed by the play Who I’m Doing This For by Peter Farrar. This is a review of the second group of monologues – I have reviewed the first group and Who I’m Doing This For separately.)

As I mentioned in my first Metropolis Monologues review, the format of five monologues from five writers performed by five actors is enticing to anyone who wants to see fresh indie theatre in Melbourne. Although I enjoyed the first showcase, this second half of the series is where the format really blossomed for me. While both batches had the same director (Karyn Lee Greig), this set of monologues felt more thematically cohesive, since they all revolved around ideas of home and family: where it is, what it means, and how to find it.

In The Good Deed (written by Jeannie Haughton), Monique Kerr plays a beleaguered mother driving the kids home from school, until she sees an old man beside the road who might be in trouble. Kerr’s physicality really shines when she imitates the old man and her children, and this is coupled with writing that perfectly suits those voices. The piece also sets a good tone because the use of lighting and sound effects to establish a suspenseful tone is already more dynamic than in the previous set of monologues. The main character was likeable and full of fun quips, and this led to an ending that felt both heartfelt and earned.

Renovation Ruin’s main set-piece is a battered, graffiti-laden toilet. In Bruce Shearer’s bizarre monologue, Donna de Palma’s character opens the door to a stranger who just wants to use the bathroom, and uses the visitor to pour her heart out about a relationship gone wrong, and the renovation project she’s undertaking to try and exorcise herself. The writing style is evocative and erudite, and de Palma’s organic acting creates a great sense of unease around this character; how much of her behaviour is melodrama, and how much is her actually losing her mind? The ridiculous toilet quickly becomes a clever metaphor for her broken relationship, and the way that the last line ties that symbolism together is absolutely fantastic.

 

 

Leisa Whyte’s Deep Breath introduces us to a young man (played by Anthony Pontonio) struggling to find himself. He has taken a break from university to stay in a beach town, and after getting a job as a barista, he starts to wonder if he could stay there for good. Also, he hears voices in his head, which may be anxiety, a superpower, or something in between. Pontonio gives a gorgeous performance here; there are so many subtle physical moments that could just as easily make you laugh as give you heartache. There is a constant sense of something about to snap under his calm veneer, cultivating a character who comes across warm and sympathetic, but also a bit scary. This piece captured what it’s like to feel at home while also longing for one, and more than any other monologue, I wanted to see more of this character after it ended.

In Wakeup Call, when an old woman sees a neighbour’s home being cleared out by her sons, she becomes worried about her own complicity in this woman’s fate, and her own future. Maree Collie’s writing brings some much-needed humanity to a character who could otherwise be a stereotypical ‘crotchety old lady’. Both writer and actor (Clare Larman) handle the fear of growing old and being abandoned with a deft mix of comedy and solemnity (“What will they toss out first: my life or me?”). The easy-going nature of the character made moments where she snapped feel more palpable, but the multiple instances of her observing exactly what was being thrown out of the house did feel somewhat repetitive. Some of the trains of thought that she expressed also felt like they weren’t fully followed through; it was an enjoyable piece and performance – I just felt that it could have made its themes even stronger.

The final piece, Dream Home (written by Louise Hopewell) centres around a woman (played by Charmaine Gorman) who has recently discovered that a woman tragically died years ago in her house. She is haunted less by a ghost and more by the knowledge she now has, and the sense that she is being watched by the dead woman. The writing takes its time, building a sense of intrigue about all characters mentioned and conveying the hesitancy the main character feels about speaking to the dead. Gorman’s performance is fraught with sympathy and confusion; she makes you feel the looming presence of somebody else in the way she speaks, and you feel for the lack of support she’s experiencing. With a silent sequence of lighting a candle, the showcase ends on a quiet, pondering note.

In one way or another, all five monologues see their characters questioning their relationships to their home, family and how they fit into their own lives. While I think both showcases were consistent with each other in terms of the writing and acting, the thematic cohesion in this second set took it from good to great. MWT has created a fantastic format for theatre writers and actors of all levels, and I look forward to seeing it return next year.

To book tickets to Metropolis Monologues Showcase Two, please visit https://melbournewriterstheatre.org.au/.

Photographer: Mina Shafer

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